"I have stayed an unconscionable time," Ralph said at last, "and I hope you will let me come again. I can scarcely tell you what you have done for me. You have made me feel that 'the best is yet to be.'"
Mr Reynolds did not answer immediately. When he did, it was to say somewhat dreamily—
"'But I need now as then,
Thee, God, who mouldest men.'
I wish I had your voice, Dr Dudley. With such an organ, and with such a faith, you ought to be able to move mankind."
"Faith?" repeated Dudley; "I am not overburdened with that."
"By faith I did not mean creed. I was thinking of your paper the other evening."
Dudley winced. "That paper was not written yesterday," he said. "I had neither the heart nor the energy to write another, so I
'Gored mine own thought, sold cheap what is most dear."
Greater men than I have preached to-day the faith of yesterday, in the hope that it might return to-morrow. But I am afraid that sort of faith never does return."
"Had you built your house upon the sand?"